'And shall Trelawney die?' and The Mist on the Moors. Being romances of the parish of Altarnun in the county of Cornwall

Front matter

"AND SHALL TRELAWNEY DIE?" AND THE MIST ON THE MOORS. BY THE SAME AUTHOR. Uniform with this Volume. THE BIRTHRIGHT: H Isiomancc. Illustrated by Harold Piffard. London : JAMES BOWDEN, io, Henrietta St., W.C. Hugh's visit to granfer crowle's hut (p. 84). "AND SHALL TRELAWNEY DIE?" AND THE MIST ON THE MOORS. BEING ROMANCES OF THE PARISH OF ALTARNUN IN THE COUNTY OF CORNWALL. BY JOSEPH HOCKING, author of "the birthright," "all men are liars," etc. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY LANCELOT SPEED. LONDON : JAMES BOWDEN, io, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. 1897- PAGE 9 69 84 5 CONTENTS. "AND SHALL TRELAWNEY DIE?"

Chapter I. How Hugh Launceston Came To Altarnun Moors

"VTO one knew who he was, or from whence he ■*■ came. A wild-eyed, shock-headed lad, rather shambling in his gait, and loosely built withal. That, however, might be owing to the fact that he was overgrown. Most lads look ungainly when such is the case, and he was abnormally tall. Evidently, too, he was conscious of his unusual height, for he sought to bring himself down to the stature of other boys of his age by stooping. This was a pity, for it made him look more awkward than ever. The few boys who lived within a radius of two miles from Lanherne Farm called him " Hairpin," because he was so bent and thin. A Sunday or two after he came to Lanherne, he walked across the moors to Altarnun Wesleyan Chapel, and there he was hooted. This would not have happened, I think, but for the strange, haunted look in his eyes, and also it had become known that Jacob Polyphant, who farmed Lanherne, had taken him from Launceston Workhouse.

For Cornish people are as much imbued with the spirit of caste as are the Hindoos. The feeling from which this springs is not an unmixed evil, it is mainly good. They are a sturdy, independent people, who will live on one meal a day rather than beg, and the respectable portion of the community regards it as the bounden duty of honest people to lay by for a rainy day. Thus it is that those who find a home in the workhouse, or as they call it, "the Union," are regarded as lazy, drunken, or in some other way '* evil lived." Indeed, if the truth must be told, Jacob Polyphant was rather ashamed of having taken a servant lad from the Union, neither would he have done so but for necessity. The fact was, some silver-lead mines had been opened up on the north coast of the county, and attracted by the offer of good wages, a number of men had left Altarnun for Trevose.

Consequently the farmer was short of hands. He saw the hay crop coming on apace and he did not see how it was to be saved ; he saw the turnips planted, but did not know how they were to be hoed. He, his son, and one labourer toiled hard, but they could not keep abreast of the work. " What shall us do, mawther ? " asked the farmer of his wife. "Thews mines have tooked away the men, an' I dunnaw what to do." " 'Ave 'ee tried, Jacob ? " asked Jennifer Polyphant, his wife. " Tried everywhere. I've bin to Lewannick, and North Hill, and oal round, but oal the farmers be the saame. What I want is another reg'lar 'and. A good lerrupin booy wud do better'n nothin', but law ! the booys be so conceity as the men. I must have a lookout in to Launceston " (he pronounced it Lanson) " to-day." This conversation took place one Saturday in June, just as Jacob Polyphant was starting for Launceston market.

The farmer had been working hard all the forenoon, and was now struggling to put on a collar and front, which he called *' a haalf shirt," and which he wore only at three special times, viz., funerals, market days, and Sundays. He was not in a good temper, because he did not like being called a " working farmer," and he would have to bear this title if he were seen day after day in the fields, and to use his own figure, " slavin' like a hoss." After having done his business at Launceston, Jacob Polyphant was wending his way to the inn at which his horse was stabled, when he heard his name. " Surely you've gone proud, Jacob Polyphant ! " said the voice. " No I bean't," said Jacob ; "and es that you, Peter ? " " Yes. Come up an' 'ave a cup of tea with me ? " " To tell 'ee the truth I caan't stay, or I should be fine an' glad ; but I want to zee ef I caan't git a sarvant man.

They be awful sca'ce wi' we." " I hear that a lot ov 'em be gone to the new lead mines." " Iss, they be. I dessay the mine'll scat after a bit, and then they'll be glad 'nough to come back, but jist now, I caan't git my work done. I do want a sarvant chap right bad, and I'm 'fraid the fellas that you've got up to the Union bean't no good to me." " I don't know that. Come up and have a cup of tea with me, and I'll show you what I have got. I've an idea I can help you." " Do 'ee main et ? " " I do," said Mr. Peter Treloar, who was master of the workhouse. " Come on ; my missis will be very glad to see 'ee, and we shall be just in time for tea." When they got to the workhouse, Mrs. Treloar, kind and hospitable lady as she was, would not allow Jacob Polyphant to attend to his business until he had done justice to the good things she had provided, and had also answered a number of questions about his wife and family.

This done, however, the farmer and the workhouse master adjourned to the garden. "Now what es et you 'ave to offer me?" asked Jacob. " There he is," said the workhouse master. The farmer looked and saw a tall, thin lad digging. He raised his eyes for a second as he saw them approach, and then went on with his work. The two men watched him for a few seconds, and then went to another part of the garden. " Who es a? " asked the farmer. ** I don't know." " But you must knaw somethin' 'bout un. Where ded a come from ? Who's his father and mawther ?" " I don't know." " Well, what do 'ee knaw ? " "A policeman brought him here just before last Christmas." " A policeman ? " "Yes, he was out of order, I know, but the man was kind. The policeman was coming from Virginstow, and when he came to the bridge that crosses the Tamar, he saw this lad looking into the river.

He didn't seem to know when the policeman passed him, he kept looking in the water like one dazed." " He was maazed, p'r'aps," suggested the farmer. " Well, Jenkins the policeman spoke to him, but he got no answer. He saw, however, that the poor boy looked very ill. His clothes were stained and saturated with rain. Evidently he had not been in bed for days, and he shivered like one having ague. Jenkins, as I said, is a kind-hearted fellow, so he took the lad by the arm, and led him to a roadside cottage, and asked a woman to give him a cup of tea. The tea revived him a bit, but nothing could be got from the poor boy. Well, it was his duty to take him to the police station, but he thought he didn't look a proper inmate for such a place, so he brought him on here. The next day he was in a raging fever, and for weeks we thought he would have died.

However, towards March he pulled round, and now you see he looks purty strong." The workhouse master said all this very fluently, with but little use of the Cornish vernacular. He had prepared what he had said to Jacob Polyphant as a part of his report to the House Committee, and as a consequence was able to put the proper amount of feeling into his words. " Well, I s'poase you've axed un questions since ? " suggested the farmer. " Yes, we have, but either his mind and memory are a blank with regard to the past, or he has something which he desires to keep a secret ; anyhow, he will tell us nothing about his past." " Not his name ? " " Except that he's called Hugh. " He got better in March, you say ? ' " Yes, he began to get better then, and he's been allowed to work in the garden these last two months.

The doctor has taken quite a fancy to him. Dr. Williams is a character, and he fancies that Hugh is something out of the ordinary." " You say he've bin workin' in the garden fur two months. You must knaw somethin' about un. Es a honest ? Will a do as 'ee's told ? Can a work ? " " Honest ? Well, he's no chance to be dishonest, but he's no sneaky tricks with him. I've never discovered him in a lie ; but that's not saying much, for I can't get him to talk. As for working, he seems eager for it, and I've never had cause to complain of him in any way. We've made all sorts of inquiries, but without avail, and we've decided to give it up. We might have got a place for him a month ago, but the doctor wouldn't give his consent. It was only yesterday that he said he was fit to go out and get his own livin' !

" " I suppose 'ee 'ed'n a fool, es a? " " Bless you, no, and I fancy he's been to school a good bit. When he does talk, he uses capital grammar, and the doctor says he thinks he's bin well brought up ; but I've my doubts about that." " Well, s'poase I spaik to un ? " suggested the farmer. " The very thing." They went up to the lad, who had kept steadily at work, and when the workhouse master addressed him he looked up curiously. " This gentleman is a farmer, Hugh," said Peter Treloar ; " he wants some one to go on his farm and work. He thinks of taking you. He's called Mr. Jacob Polyphant." Hugh looked steadily into the farmer's face as though he wanted to try and find out the kind of man he was, but he did not speak. ** How old be 'ee, Hugh ? " asked the farmer. The lad seemed to be trying to remember some thing, then he said, — " Fourteen last Christmas Day." ** Do you think you'd like to work on a farm ?

" asked Jacob kindly. " What should I have to do ? " he asked. " Drive hosses, haw turmuts, plough an' harvey, work in the hayfields and the cornfields, an' sich like," replied the farmer. " Where should I live ? " " At Lanherne Farm, in the parish of Altarnun. A grand parish 'tes ; the biggest in the county. Ther's grand moors near, an' you can zee Router and Brown Willy from our 'ouse." " Altarnun," repeated the boy, as though he were trying to remember. " Should I live in the house with you ? " he queried. " Iss. I've got one son, he's eighteen, but he ed'n so tall as you, but a lot stouter. Then ther's three maidens : they be younger. My missus would be very kind to 'ee — that es, ef she took to ee. " It'll be a good home for 'ee, Hugh," said the workhouse master ; " and you'll have to go some where in a week or two.

I don't think you can do better." The boy looked on the ground for a few seconds ; then he gazed steadily into the farmer's face again. " I'll go — for a time, anyhow," he said ; " when do you wish me to start ? " " You'd better ride back to-night," replied the farmer ; " I've got the trap 'ere. You'll want to 'ave a vew cloas, I reckon ; but I can fix that up with Mr. Treloar 'ere. But before we settle I should like to ax 'ee a vew things. Ya zee, I'm " And Shall Trelawney Die ? " 18 takin' 'ee 'pon trust, wethout a character from any plaace you've bin. Now I should like to knaw where you was brot up, who yer father and mawther be, an' things like that ? " Hugh shook his head. " I can't tell anything," he said; " but I'll work for you faithfully." " But what ded 'ee do afore you corned 'ere ?

Ther' ca'ant be no 'arm in tellin' that." "I can't tell anything," repeated Hugh; "ifl go with you, I'll try and learn how to do the work on the farm." Jacob Polyphant looked puzzled. " I'm 'fraid mawther waan't like it," he said doubtfully ; " but I'll take un 'ome weth me. What wages must I give un ? " " Well, you'll see what he's worth. When he leaves us the Guardians won't be responsible, I expect." "Well, that shall be settled then," said the farmer; "I expect you can furridge up a vew cloas for un. You'd better git ready, Hugh ; I shall laive the town as soon as I can now." " Stop a minute," said Hugh ; -- I'm willing to go with you. I should have left here before now if the doctor would have allowed me, but I want to know something. I've been here six months, and most of the time I've been ill.

Well, I want to pay back what I've cost. I've worked in the garden this last two months, and I've done enough to earn my food and things for that time ; but I want to pay all the rest, so I should like to know what wages I'm to get." This was a long speech for Hugh, the longest he had made since he had come to the workhouse. " I'll give 'ee wot you'm wuth, square and fair," said the farmer ; " I caan't say more'n that now, but I should think ef you'm wot you seem to be, I cud give 'ee eight pound an' yer mait and lodge the fust year, and more the next." " And how much have I cost here ? " asked Hugh, turning to the workhouse master. " Well, I expect the Guardians would be contented with a year's wage at that rate," replied Mr. Treloar with a laugh. The question had never been asked him before.

" Then," said Hugh eagerly, " I wish all the money I can get to be given to you here till my debt's paid." -* But what'll 'ee do for cloas an' shoes ? " asked the farmer. The lad looked anxious. " How much a year did I ought to spend in these ? " he asked. " Fower pound, I shud think." " Then I'll pay four pounds the first year, and four the second," he cried eagerly. " I like un for that," remarked the farmer to Mr. Treloar, as they found their way to the master's part of the house. " And Shall Trelawney Die ? " 20 "He'll turn out all right, he's that sort," replied the master. " I suppose the Guardians wa'ant grumble at my takin' un away sudden like this ? " queried the farmer. " No ; 't'was all left wi' me at the last meeting. As Hugh rode along the quiet lanes with the farmer that evening, he seemed to be pondering deeply, and Jacob Polyphant being a kind-hearted and thoughtful man did not disturb him.

" I suppose," said the lad when they had crossed the River Inney, and were riding through the little village of Lewannick, where the trees grew thick and the flowers bloomed, " you'll want to call me something besides Hugh ? " " Moast people 'ave two naames," remarked the farmer ; " it seems a law ov the land." " Then you'd better call me Hugh Launceston," said the lad. " Hugh Launceston," repeated the farmer ; " oal right. It do sound stylish, too. But I shall 'ave to tell where I took 'ee from." He said this apologetically. " If you do," said Hugh, " tell the rest — tell how I am going to pay for what has been done for me. I shall not be a pauper then." " Tha's true," said the farmer ; " I'll tell that too, and I 'ope you'll turn out well." " I'll try very hard," replied Hugh quietly. Arrived at Lanherne farmhouse, Mrs. Polyphant looked at Hugh very suspiciously.

She ordered some supper to be placed for him in the back kitchen, however, and then went to the front kitchen, where her husband was waiting to tell his story. " Well, I don't hould with Union sarvents," remarked Mrs. Polyphant when he had finished, " but seein' as 'ow you've got un, I'll try to do my duty by un." " He's as thin as a kidney-bean stick and as limp as a rag," said Nehemiah Polyphant, their only son, who was usually called " Miah.'' " He'll git stouter," responded the farmer ; " lev un 'ave plenty of good fat pork broth, an' a stugger ov milk every mornin', an' 'ee'll git sa peart as a fightin' cock. He've got big bones." " Well, I 'ope 'ee ain't a-done nothin' wrong," responded Mrs. Polyphant. " He do look as ef 'ee's under conviction of sin. His eyes do make me feared." While the farmer's family were discussing Hugh in the front kitchen, the two servant girls were catechising him during the time he ate his supper.

They asked him numerous questions, but the lad answered none of them. He seemed to be pondering seriously over matters which had no connection with the girls' questions. Presently the servants began to be afraid of him. " And Shall Trelawney Die ? " 22 They too were impressed with the sad, plaintive look in his eyes, and wondered what it meant. '- 'Ave 'ee sould yerself to the devil, or be 'ee ill-wished ? " asked one presently. Hugh shook his head. " Be 'ee dees and doomb, then ? " asked the other. "No," said Hugh; "but you see I have no friends." " Poor booy ! " said the elder osthe two girls. " Do you belong to this parish ? " asked Hugh presently. " Iss," replied both. " Do you know the names of all the farms ? " -« No, not all, but a lot. What do 'ee want to know for ? " " I was wondering.

Tell me the names of those you know." " I'll tell 'ee the names of the big wawns. Ther's Trewint, and ther's Polskiddy, and ther's Pencarie and Trelowry." " Trelowry ! who lives there ? " Oa, Maaster Magor do live there. He's a squire, he es." '* Magor, Magor ? " repeated Hugh. " Do you know him ? " " Knaw un ? Well, I shud knaw un ef I wos to zee un, but I never spok' to un." " Have you ever been to Trelowry ? " " Iss ; I do knaw the deearymaid (dairymaid) up there. I've seed the 'ouse ; 'tes splendid, tha's wot 'tes. Do you knaw anything 'bout it ? " Hugh shook his head. " Then wot made 'ee ax ? " " I was only wondering," replied Hugh. He did not talk any more that night, but when he got to the little box which was to serve as his bedroom he looked out of the window towards Router and Brown Willy for a long time, as though he were impressed with the wild beauty of the scene.

But he was not. Evidently he was thinking' of other matters, for presently, when he was lying on his bed, he kept repeating the name of Mr. Magor's house. "Trelowry, Trelowry," he said again and again. *' Yes, that's it ; I remember. I'll go and look at it as soon as I can, perhaps to-morrow, if not, some other time. But I must say nothing ; no, I must not say a word to any one, until the proper time comes."

Chapter II. Hugh Questions The Vicar

FOR some weeks after Hugh Launceston came to Altarnun Moors he seemed to take but little notice of his surroundings. He did the work allotted to him, if not with eagerness, at least with willingness, so much so that Jacob Polyphant declared that " he dedn' want a better booy." But he asked no questions, and with the exception of his one visit to Altarnun, when the village lads hooted him, he did not go beyond the farm boundary. Question after question had been asked of him, but he answered none of them. Who his father was, or who his mother, no one knew, and if he knew himself he did not tell. He simply worked on the farm, and although, as Jennifer Polyphant declared, he looked like one " under deep convic tion of sin," he behaved well. Indeed, had he desired to go away from the farm, or to make acquaintances in the parish, it would have been difficult for him to have done so.

His work on the farm was very hard, and as a» harvest came on, he was kept busy from morning until night. When September arrived, however, work became easier ; he had a few hours to spare now and then, while between six and nine o'clock of an evening he was allowed to do pretty much as he liked. It was noticed that he constantly turned to the little bookshelf in Jacob Polyphant's front kitchen, while the book in which he seemed most interested was one entitled " Local Traditions." This, as the long evenings came on, he read and re-read, until, as the servant maidens declared, he must " 'ave larned un off by 'art." " Wot do 'ee care 'bout a book like that ? " asked one of the girls. " 'Tes sa dry as a lime burner's shoe." " What is there else to read ? " asked Hugh. " Why, ther's ' Lives of Piruts and Say Rubbers,' " replied Sally Udy, the girl in question, " an' ther's Bunyan's ' 'Oly War,' and ther's the Bible ; even that is better than yore book."

But Hugh did not seem to care for Sally's advice, and kept reading "Local Traditions" with evident interest. Often, too, as he read he was seen to stop, lift his eyes from the book, and look steadily at some seemingly distant object; then, when spoken to, would start like one guilty of some wrong act. After he had read "Local Traditions" through several times, he said to Jacob Polyphant, his master, — *' Are there any men with a lot of learning in the parish ? ' " Iss," replied Jacob ; " our Miah can cipher on to wat they call vulgar fractions. I dunnaw what that may main, but I hear it's a long way on in the 'rethmetic book." " I don't mean that kind of learning," replied Hugh ; "I mean is there any one in the parish who knows anything about the history of Altarnun ? " " To be sure. Ther's the passon.

I don't think much of passons as a rule, but our passon es a great schullard." " Thank you," said Hugh ; but, although Jacob asked him many questions, he answered none of them. On the Saturday following, however, Hugh made his way to the village. It was quite dark when he came to Five Lanes, and so he passed through Altarnun unnoticed. When he came to the New Wesleyan Chapel, he looked at the building darkly. It was here he had been hooted, and he associated the insult with the place of worship. When he came to the old chapel, however, his face changed. In front of this building the bust of John Wesley had been placed. It was carved by a poor lad, and his name had been mentioned in the book he had been reading. He gave a passing glance at the bust, and then crossing the little footbridge which spanned the river, he came to the vicarage gates.

" I wonder if he'll tell me what I want to know?" he said to himself. "I wonder if he can ? Was mother mistaken, or am I what she said I am ? ' He knocked at the vicarage door, and a servant came. Was the Rev. John Strong at home ? ** Yes." *c Can I see him ? " asked Hugh timidly. " I speck you want a character," remarked the girl. " I'll tell 'im you be 'ere," and she showed him into the library. The Rev. John Strong was a little wizened man, who boasted a big voice. He evidently desired to convey to the minds of the villagers the idea that his name was indicative of his physical powers, for every morning during the summer months he made his way to the river, the bed of which was covered with large, smooth stones, lifted the heavi est he could above his head, and then dashed them with all his strength into the water.

In deed, he became known as " the stone heaver," and the village lads remarked that ** he wadn' sa waik after oal, 'specially considerin' he was a passon." " Yes, my lad, what can I do for you ? ' asked the Reverend John. " I want to know," asked Hugh, " whether you are acquainted with the history of the parish, and whether you know anything of the old families connected with it ? " Hugh's question touched Mr. Strong's most sensitive part, and he immediately became com municative. The truth was, he had for a long time contemplated writing a history of the parish, and it was only apathy on the part of his parishioners concerning the subject, which kept him from doing so. Hugh's question, however, fanned his desire into a flame. "Nothing of importance has happened during the last six hundred years of which I am un aware," he said.

" Then," said Hugh, " you can perhaps tell me something about the history of the original Trelawneys ? " " The Trelawneys ? " echoed the parson. " They're dead. There is a branch of the family living near Liskeard, but beyond that it has no representatives." " But the family had its origin in this parish, I suppose ? " suggested Hugh. " Indeed it did, and that is the ground of my complaint. It is the most important parish in the county. It is the largest, and has the most historical associations. Yet no correct history is extant, and what is more, I have received no encouragement in my researches." The Rev. John's enthusiasm had carried him away, and he had forgotten that he was talking to a lad scarcely fifteen years of age. " It is dark now," he continued, " or I would show you the church.

It is a fine church, although in a shameful condition. The tower is the highest in the county with the exception of Probus, and that exceeds it by three barleycorns only. The seat-ends are finely carved, although much worm eaten. The stones that built the church and tower once formed the walls of the Trelawney Barton House, while the wood was cut from the Tre lawney parks. The county song originated in this parish. When Trelawney was imprisoned in the Tower of London it was the men of Altarnun who caused a great uprising, and who marched through the county singing — And shall they scorn Tre, Pol and Pen, And shall Trelawney die ? Then twenty thousand Cornishmen Shall know the reason why ! ' " Evidently Hugh knew all this before, but he waited patiently nevertheless ; indeed, he seemed keenly interested.

" And you say there is no remnant of the family in the parish to-day ? " he asked. " And Shall Trelawney Die ? " 30 The Rev. John Strong looked at him keenly. Up to now he had thought but little of the identity of his questioner. He had expected a lad who came to ask for a " character," and his question concerning his hobby had caused him to forget everything else. Now, however, he won dered at the lad's question. He was only a farm servant — that fact was revealed by his clothes — yet he asked questions concerning the oldest county family. " Who are you, and what might be your reason for asking, my lad ? " he queried. " My name is Hugh Launceston," was the reply. " I am a servant of Mr. Jacob Polyphant, who lives at Lanherne." " Ah, yes, I've heard about you. Who are you, though ? " " I have told you," replied Hugh "Yes, but you came from the workhouse," replied the vicar.

" Of your history before you went there, no one knows anything. I am the clergyman. I might help you if you were to confide in me concerning yourself." " Mr. Strong," said Hugh, " is there anything in your life which you desire to keep secret from the world ? " "I expect there is," replied the vicar. " Then you will understand my position," said Hugh. " I should not have gone into Launceston Workhouse had I not been taken there ill, and I have already paid back a part of the money it cost to keep me while I was there. In a few months I hope to be free from debt. I am interested in the parish, and I have been reading a book called ' Local Traditions,' which has aroused my curiosity. So I came to you as the one scholar in the parish, thinking you might explain the many things which have puzzled me."